Firelands Diary
by TheFacerockker
Summary: Join Mullioch Bramblehorn, a powerful Druid in the World of Warcraft as he recounts his experiences in the invasion of the Firelands. Warning: High reading level!
1. The Beginnings

Morning of Day One

The preparations are being made. The troops are gathering. The rotten, putrid stench of charred flesh and burnt land fills the air so profusely I've almost been sick myself at least once today already. War is inevitable, and the invasion is starting.

The elapsed days have been burdensome for all and sundry, especially those with healing magic. All of us have been scrambling around Hyjal, restoring foliage, mending the sick and the wounded, whatever we can do to abettor the situation at hand. Fortuitously, I've been doing this gig for years so I'm good to go. Even though ol' Shan'do will probably coerce all his soldiers to succumb to a good night's rest before the invasion begins.

Earth Mother help me, my hands won't stop trembling, even as I pen these passages. I've never been so distressed about something in all my years. But the feelings aren't just solicitous, either. Its... Coalesced with anticipation, melancholy, and plenty of other emotions I can't quite place my finger on. Perhaps my body will calm after a quiet composure.

I will here cease the first chapter of my upcoming journey. However arduous or horrific or lethargic my experiences may be, I shall archive them all in this journal. From now forward, each entry will be recalling a past event as I so remember.

May the Earth Mother watch over you.

With much regard;

_Mullioch_.


	2. Calm Before the Storm

Evening of Day One

As I waited for the foray to initiate, my hands clamped onto my staff so hard I damn near broke it. I finally came to the conclusion about the emotions I was feeling - Fear. Pulse pounding, heart racing, nerve wracking fear. The kind of fear that makes you frequently jump at any noise you hear, constantly making your look over your shoulder to check for things that aren't really there. It makes your senses go into overdrive, forcing you to make false accusations about reality, the one thing you know so well, the one thing you know for certain. It makes your mind your worst enemy as it conjures up apocryphal horrors that don't really exist, but still evoke that horrible feeling inside of you. Its that voice that whispers to you, 'Get away, get away.'

But I shant lose courage or have qualms about this day, nor any chances I may take. I shall remain vigilant.

The hum of the giant portal established at the edge of the cliff pervaded the surrounding atmosphere with a boisterous hum as it swirled with intense heat. As I stand here, idle, I am encompassed by so many faces, both known to me and unknown. Elves, Shu'halo, even some humans and orcs pepper our ranks. It made me smile knowing the diversity of the people that would wager their lives to fight the flame and save our beloved world, but the brief moment of vivacity ended shortly as my ears were treated to the harsh cacophony that was Malfurion barking out orders to others.

'First division up front! I want everybody ready!' he bellowed loudly, waving his arms around. Clearing my throat, I straightened my body upright and planted myself firmly on the soil beneath me. I can't recall a time I've ever seen Malfurion so fixated or exacerbated about something before. I gulped nervously as I watched him approach, pacing up the path of the bluff we all were situated on. Even those around me were hesitant as Malfurion converged with the rest of us at the portal site.

Slowly, Malfurion paced back and forth. None of us dared to speak, especially directly at him. His path came to a halt, and he stopped to face us. Lips pursed, Malfurion's face looked constrained, as if having difficulty deciding how to say his next words without trying to scare us. Finally, his mouth started moving.

To spare you from the repetitious speech he gave us, I'll sum it up for you: What we re about to pierce will be a living, breathing hell. Everything we've ever fathomed, everybody we've encounter, even our very own senses and perception- its all about to be turned on its head. We've crossed swords with the sycophants of the Fire Lord before, even deep in the bowels of the Molten Core when we beat him back to his home. But that was different. That was in our own world. Now? We re in a world that none of us have ever laid eyes on before.

As Malfurion closed his speech, I can certainly say for myself that I was scared out of my mind. However, his words inspired hope, and gave me the courage to step through that portal. Still, I was conflicted, not only by my own emotions but also that of my fellow peers. I looked upon their faces, and saw fear, excitement, anticipation...

My daydreaming was abruptly cut short when my ears were once again filled with the shrill commands of Malfurion. 'Troops! The time for revenge is upon us. Into the portal!'

And with that, we were in the Firelands.


	3. A Day in Hell

Night of Day Two

The first day - if it can even be called a day in such an unknown world - went outstandingly well, considering the conditions at hand. To our surprise, we met with little resistance, which I ll explain shortly. Firstly, I would like to speak of my first moments after we stepped through the portal.

The first thing I recall; heat. Intense, vehement, blazing heat. Immediately once we arrived, the immensely powerful calidity overwhelmed us all. I began to perspire mere moments after we entered the Firelands. I figured the climate would be the most erroneous factor of exploring this god forsaken place, but I was dead wrong. Along with the intense heat, I felt a terrifying disconnection to Azeroth and all living things as we slowly began exploring the place. After a few short colloquy's with fellow Druids we all came to the corollary that we are indeed cut off sporadically from our energy source. I myself can confirm this, as I felt my zeal wane and wax constantly while we progressed.

We spent the first cardinal hours in the Firelands combating a massive monstrosity known only as the Obsidian Slaglord as Malfurion so called it. The fracas was drawn out and and savage, but miraculously we came out of the battle with no cessation of any of our troops. Somehow, our clout held out just long enough to defeat the hulking menace. I remember all too well as the elemental summoned spires of rock and lit us all ablaze with the incandescent flames of pure evil. Luckily, the beast was no contender against the forces of Azeroth, and we easily banished it back to the depths of hell.

After the Slaglord was contended with, our subsequent objective was to establish our first foothold in the Firelands. Being one with the lion s share of erudition in the arts of Druidic magic, I myself was personally asked to perform a nature summoning, which I readily agreed to. The ritual was crowned with success, and within minutes the inceptive sapling began to sprout.

As the hours of the first day culminated, diminutive grass spread across the ground around us and vivacious tendrils of life coiled around the portal between Azeroth and the Firelands. Tents have been pitched around in a constricted circle, with guards consistently on duty. Beautiful life here is proliferating, and its the first blessing we've beheld since our arrival. This treat as great effects on us, as the blooming verdure gives power to us wielders of nature magic, and the bantling life grants much needed morale to us all.

Deep within the penetralia of his alcazar, I can easily descry the furious rumbling of Ragnaros, crying out in rage and domineering his army. Just his voice makes me quake with fear, but I will not abandon my duties now.

I'm coming for you, Fire Lord.


End file.
